COLUMBIA, S.C. — For years, basketball was an escape for Chamique Holdsclaw.

The more time she spent on the court working toward her goals of being a top WNBA draft pick and being the first woman to have major endorsement deals meant less time to focus on the mental health issues that she’d dealt with throughout her life.

Years after her retirement, Holdsclaw finds the game that gave her an escape has given her a platform.

Since the 2015 release of the documentary Mind/Game: The Unquiet Journey of Chamique Holdsclaw directed by Rick Goldsmith, the six-time WNBA all-star has been sharing her story of confronting mental illness.

“It’s been a really interesting journey. Did I ever think this would be my life? No, and I make sure they know this,” Holdsclaw said after speaking at the College Sport Research Institute Conference this week.

“I’m supposed to be coaching. I’m supposed to be doing X, Y and Z. And I wake up and would that fulfill me? No, because I’m not facing the issues that I dealt with. Would I do this forever? I don’t know. I have other interests and things I’d like to pursue, but I know for this moment now, this is what makes me wake up.”

After a showing of the documentary about her fight with mental illness — first with a diagnosis of depression and more recently with one of bipolar disorder — Holdsclaw shared with candor and frankness how she manages her recovery.

That’s accepting the medication she has to take daily. It’s therapy. And it’s sharing her story.

Holdsclaw, a No. 1 WNBA draft pick and the 1999 rookie of the year, has spoken publicly about struggling with depression since 2007.

But her arrest in 2012 served as a catalyst for Holdsclaw to better confront her illness and has made her more open in telling her story.

In November of that year, Holdsclaw smashed the windows of her ex-girlfriend’s Range Rover. Jennifer Lacy, then a WNBA player, told police Holdsclaw fired a gun at the vehicle after breaking the windows.

In June 2013, Holdsclaw pleaded guilty to two counts of aggravated assault, criminal damage in the first degree, two counts of criminal damage in the second degree and possession of a firearm during the commission of a felony.

She was sentenced to three years’ probation and ordered to pay a $3,000 fine and complete 120 hours of community service.

“To be in that state where everything is bright and to not have, it was like an out-of-body experience, and it really scared me because I was like, what if I really hurt somebody? What if I hurt myself? Because I was having those thoughts,” Holdsclaw said. “I was like, I’ve got to take care of this. I’ve got to step up to this. It’s something that’s debilitating. It’s something that’s affected me since I was young.”

She spent almost a year and a half in therapy, and she was diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

Pat Summitt and Chamique Holdsclaw during Holdsclaw's final season with the Vols.(Photo: Mark Humphrey, AP)

For years, Holdsclaw had been protected — by her grandmother, who died in 2002; by coach Pat Summitt, who won three NCAA titles during Holdsclaw’s time at Tennessee; and by the structure of basketball, with the game, coaches and teammates providing order and escape.

Holdsclaw lost that when she retired for a second time in 2010, and her arrest put things into focus.

“(Basketball has) given me a lot of amazing things. I’ve seen the world. I’ve been able to do amazing things for my family and myself,” she said. “But it did hinder me a lot in the personal growth, things I should have taken care of, because of that coach factor. You’re good. You’re protected.”

Now, Holdsclaw is unprotected and unguarded. She’s spoken to dozens of groups about dealing with her mental illness, hoping sharing her story will help others.

Oftentimes, that means listening to their stories, taking on the struggles they disclose to her in person or later in messages on Facebook.

No longer is Holdsclaw trying to escape. As she approaches her 40th birthday this year, she’s found acceptance. Without basketball to help her hide from her mental illness, Holdsclaw has found a way to help herself and others.

“It’s nothing special. I just know a lot of people suffer in silence, and I’ve got to step up. I’ve got to stand for something and take responsibility,” she said.

“I just know when I’m near, how it impacts people. … People are touched or crying or share with me. That’s way better than doing the basketball stuff.”